


What Might Surprise (In Contentious Harmony)

by hallowgirl



Category: Lolitics, Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: (kinda), (politically anyway), (well not enemies really), Belligerent Sexual Tension, Blushing, Camerband, David No One Cares About Eton, Deadpan Snarkers, Ed Is A Geek, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, First Kiss, Foe Yay, Hate to Love, I like my version of Jeremy better than the real one, It is now, It's Always Nick's Fault, Kind Of Competitve Kissing, Lolitics - Freeform, M/M, Opposites Attract, Politics, Poor Nick, Post-GE2015, Rival Romance, Snark To Snark Combat, Vitriolic Best Buds, everyone can see it, if that's a thing, just saying, lisping, of course he is, they're still kinda rivals i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5315720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowgirl/pseuds/hallowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>""Anyway-" and perhaps it's those thoughts about Miliband's mouth that make him come out with it. "I've proven in the past my <em>other</em> abilities have a habit of dominating <em>yours'-"</em> Miliband's eyebrow arches and that's when David comes out with the really stupid bit. "So, presuming yours' are satisfactory, it'd probably be the case here too."<br/>Oddly enough, the first thing that bothers David about this sentence is his own use of the word <em>dominating.</em> The second is the rest of it."</p>
<p>David Cameron supposes it might be rather undignified to be competing with the former Leader of the Opposition. In which Ed is an awkward geek who can be rather surprising, David always takes the joke too far and there's a question that urgently needs to be rectified. </p>
<p>(Also, it's probably Nick's fault. It's always Nick's fault.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Might Surprise (In Contentious Harmony)

**Author's Note:**

> David Cameron claims he had his first kiss at around the age of twelve. Ed Miliband claims he didn't kiss anyone until after university. There had to be a fanfic in it and while I've got one plot bunny about them somehow meeting at Oxford, this wouldn't leave me alone.  
> Also, Nick gets blamed for everything. Poor Nick. Leave a comment if you like it!

David Cameron supposes it might look rather undignified if anyone walks into his office right now. He supposes it might _be_ rather undignified to be half-slumped over his desk, clutching his sides, while Ed Miliband sits opposite him scowling, but at this moment in time, he can't bring himself to care.

"You're honestly telling me-" he finally manages, between bursts of laughter. "You're honestly telling me-"

"Oh, shut up, Cameron."

David shakes his head. "No, really. I've got to clarify this-"

"I'm sure the public would love to know the calibre of the parliamentary discussions that occur in this office, Cameron-"

David smirks. "But you can't be serious. You can't be seriously telling me that that-that was the _first time-"_

Miliband glares at him. "Cameron, I don't think _you_ should be judging anybody about their antics at university."

David feels the smile slide off his face like butter. Miliband smirks back at him. "Would you care for a ham sandwich, by the way?"

"Shouldn't you prefer a bacon one?" David snarls back and Miliband's grin just deepens. "I don't know, Cameron, you seem to know more about pigs than anyone in politics these days-"

"Shut up, Miliband."

David has to reflect that he's not even sure who originally brought up the topic-the few minutes when he, Miliband and several others ended up in the Portcullis bar together that had somehow led into a conversation about university days, and David scowls himself at the memory of Corbyn and Miliband's shared smug smiles, as George elbowed him and muttered "What are you eating tonight anyway, Dave, pork chop?"

Somehow, the various pig-related ribbings (and David could still kick himself for using that word to them because _why_ did he use the word ribs, _why_ ) had led to tales of various university days and had quickly got onto mishaps, misdemeanours, and for a few moments, it was Nick who was the scapegoat for his incident with the cacti, Tim snorting with laughter and telling Nick he's surprised he didn't choose the Green Party after that. Then it had been stories of university girlfriends and first dates and then-David knew it hadn't been him-it had been one of them who'd asked "So when did you first get kissed?"

(It was probably Nick. It's always probably Nick.)

Jeremy had excused himself from the conversation rather hurriedly and Andy had rolled his eyes and told a story about a school disco. Tim had muttered something about "bicycle sheds" and "dares" and Nick had laughed, before somehow shepherding them both out of there before David could demand an explanation from him. It had been then that he and Miliband had ended up going to his office, because there was a signature required on a document and David, in a moment he is doubtless he will live over and over again in his nightmares, now that Miliband's started with the pig jibes, had decided to bring the question up.

He doesn't know what he'd been expecting Miliband to say. But he himself had stepped behind his desk and said, eyes on the signature he was scribbling, "Twelve."

He'd thought Miliband was about to have some kind of seizure. His head had lifted at the spluttering sounds and he'd had to bite back his laughter at the sight of the look on Miliband's face _. "Twelve?"_

David had arched an eyebrow. "Lower the voice a little, Miliband. It's not like I was a teenage father with three different women calling themselves the mother of my children. I kissed one of my sister's friends at a birthday party in the garden. There's a difference."

"Obviously. You wouldn't have had to resort to benefits, unlike most of the teenage parents you completely refuse to understand-"

_"For God's sake, Miliband._ And anyway, for the man who wants to be the voice of equality-"

"What the-what is _that_ supposed to-"

David had glanced up and arched the eyebrow again. "When was your first time?"

Miliband had blanched. "I-I beg your-" He'd blinked. "Oh, you meant first-first-not-the-you meant first kiss-not the-the _other_ first-"

"Yes." David had grinned. "If you want to tell me both though-"

Miliband had glared at him and David had decided against finishing the sentence, especially since Miliband's eyes had been darting back and forth, his cheeks flushed. David had stared at him, feeling the smirk grow at his own mouth. "Miliband?"

"I-" Miliband had shaken his head."It doesn't matter."

"Come on, Miliband-"

"It doesn't-I am not discussing- _that-"_

"Older than fifteen?" David guesses and Miliband blushes scarlet. David grins. "OK. Not too bad. Eighteen?"

When Miliband's blush just deepens, David frowns. "Um-at university?"

Miliband glares at his shoes and David feels his eyes widen. _"After_ university?"

Miliband's face is scarlet. Something about the sight of Miliband glaring at the floor, scuffing a shoe back and forth is surprisingly endearing and David smirks. "Seriously, Miliband? Really?"

"I was _occupied."_ Miliband glares at him, his gaze snapping back to David's. "I was-just because I was-occupied with actual _work_ -not that _you_ would have known anything about-"

"Please not another Bullingdon lecture, I can still recite the last one from memory."

Miliband had glared at him and it had been then that David had started laughing. "You didn't-you never-oh my God-"

And now, he's glaring back at Miliband who's sitting watching him serenely. "I'm glad to know slander amuses you, Miliband."

"I wouldn't claim to know what amuses you, Cameron. Though I might take a guess at livestock-"

"Because that's _maturity_ , Miliband-"

Miliband arches an eyebrow. "This from the man who earlier laughed for ten minutes over Jeremy's vest?"

David glares. "The vest cried out for it."

Miliband's lip twitches. David steps round the desk towards him, handing him the document. "And I was just-" He shakes his head. "Seriously, after university?"

Miliband glares. "What's wrong with that, Cameron?"

David bites his lip. "Just-well, nothing, I suppose. I mean-" He feels the laughter (the laughter that is far too much like a giggle for David's liking) rising in his throat. "It does go some way to destroying our image of you, I have to say. I mean, I'm sure we were all picturing punk hairpins through cheeks or different girl every night or school rugby captain or something-"

Miliband blinks. _"Rugby?_ Even for an _Etonian-"_

"Really, Miliband? _That's_ the part of the sentence you choose to focus on?"

"Bullingdon Club prefer to focus on excruciating sarcasm? Then again, maybe that's more the province of the Piers-"

"I'm starting to see why you might not have been kissed until your twenties."

Miliband glares at him. David smirks. "Sorry" he manages, handing Miliband the documents. "That was a little uncalled for." He feels the grin break out again. "But seriously-"

"Thank you for an illuminating meeting." Miliband half-snatches the papers from him and David holds up a hand. "Come on, Miliband. It's a joke-" He steps in front of Miliband and watches the other man roll his eyes. _"Miliband."_

_"Cameron."_

David raises an eyebrow. "My _children_ use that trick, Miliband."

Miliband scowls even harder. Resisting the urge to point out that that's just reinforcing his point for him, David instead tilts his head, squints closer at Miliband, taking in the flush on his cheeks. He stares at him for a long moment. "Wait-that-that actually concerns you?"

"No." Miliband snaps the word far too quickly and David steps forward. _"Miliband"_ he says, still struggling to suppress his laughter. "For pity's sake, you don't have to-to worry about it-"

Miliband stares at him. "It's quite stunning, really, Cameron-each time everybody thinks you couldn't become _more_ patronizing, you actually manage-"

David's hands grip Miliband's shoulders then, and Miliband stops dead. David watches him and a rush of heat goes through him at the sight of Miliband's cheeks flushed, his pupils dilated, dark eyes even darker than usual.

"You're embarrassed about it" David says quietly and Miliband opens and closes his mouth fruitlessly, flushing an even deeper shade of scarlet.

David doesn't know where it comes from but he finds himself awkwardly patting Miliband's shoulder. "You-um-I mean, I was just-I mean, it's actually probably rather sensible to wait. I mean-it's not like-you know, what happened when I was twelve meant anything. In fact-women would probably- _prefer_ someone who waits. You know, someone who's not going to have a ton of girlfriends-"

Miliband stares at him. "I'm starting to see why you're not always popular in Brussels, Cameron, with this kind of diplomacy."

David glares at him. "I said you were _sensible-"_

"Amazing how you manage to make even _sensible_ sound like an insult, Cameron-"

"I can't help it if that's how you interpret it, Miliband."

"Oh, for God's-"

"What I was trying to say-" David launches in because if he lets Miliband keep talking, he'll never get away, they'll both be trapped here forever until they end up starving to death and Miliband will probably blame him for that, too-"Is that I was joking. It's-it's not any-reflection on you."

Miliband stares at him. David stares back until the silence gets too awkward and then he says "You know, the polite thing to do would be to tell me the same thing."

"It would" Miliband agrees and then promptly says nothing, and David rolls his eyes. "Hilarious, Miliband. You're a regular Mercutio."

"The character from _Romeo and Juliet?"_

"The _comic relief_ , Miliband-"

"Oh, I forgot about the Etonian humour-"

"I forgot about the Brownite lack of humour-"

Miliband rolls his eyes and it's then that Cameron remembers he was supposed to be giving him a compliment. "Look-I just meant-I'm sure no-one has any complaints. I mean-I'm sure Justine-"

"I'd thank you not to bring my wife's preferences into it, Cameron."

David arches an eyebrow. "I was going to say, she must be used to it by now."

Ed glares. "My wife finds me perfectly th-satisfactory."

David stares at him. "Seriously, Miliband? That's a compliment you've held onto all these years?"

"Do you know anything about appreciating your wife?"

David smiles. "No. Do you know anything about your wife appreciating you?"

"Shut up, Cameron." Ed's already heading for the door, his brow furrowed and a part of David curses himself for pushing it too far. There's a part of him that doesn't want Miliband to leave and another part that always keeps pushing him until he does. He doesn't let himself look at why but now he steps in front of the door.

"Miliband. It was a joke." He waits and when Miliband says nothing, he rolls his eyes. "Dear God, Miliband, nothing? No " _You're the joke?"_ No _"Like you?"_ I gave you an opening."

Miliband rolls his eyes. "You give me an opening almost every time you open your mouth, Cameron."

David nods. "A fair attempt." His lips twitch. "Much like your kissing, no doubt-"

"Get out of the way, Cameron."

David steps forward and his hands light on Miliband's shoulders again. "I'm sorry" he says, struggling to keep his laughter under control, because he suspects Miliband might just push past him if he fails. "Look, I'm sure your-your-your _abilities_ are-well, perfectly satisfactory."

Miliband's eyes widen a little. That wouldn't be important, except that it draws David's gaze back to them. (Not that he's often gazing at those eyes. Well. Maybe, sometimes. A little. But that's all perfectly proper.)

It's then he realises that his hands are on Miliband's shoulders and that they're a little too close to one another. He clears his throat quickly, to drag his thoughts away from any dangerous waters (because in the past, he might have let his eyes linger on Miliband's mouth occasionally- _occasionally-_ but right now that would most certainly be A Bad Idea. An underlined, italicized bad idea.)

(This is all Nick's fault.)

He pats Miliband rather awkwardly. "Anyway" he says and perhaps it's those thoughts about Miliband's mouth that make him come out with it. "I've proven in the past my _other_ abilities have a habit of dominating _yours'-_ " Miliband's eyebrow arches and that's when David comes out with the really stupid bit. "So, presuming yours' are satisfactory, it'd probably be the case here too."

Oddly enough, the first thing that bothers David about this sentence is his own use of the word _dominating._ The second is the rest of it.

Miliband's staring at him and David can feel the heat rising from under his collar. But he maintains the gaze because he is _not_ going to be the first to look away-not with _Miliband_. And then Miliband cocks _his_ head to the side and says "You sound confident."

David stares back and then lets himself smirk because that's better than paying any attention to the way his heart is racing now. "Miliband, I know you like to keep the phrase _deluded_ for yourself, so I won't use it. But if you think I'd be swept off my feet by _you_ , you're-in fact, _deluded_ would be too mild. Possibly in need of a spell in a ward where you can talk about your childhood."

"You sure the NHS will still be providing that sort of thing under your watch?"

David rolls his eyes. "Hilarious." He steps closer to Miliband because this just became serious. "I would not be- _speechless_ or-or _mind blown_ -or _romantically destroyed_ or-or whatever _other_ cliche you can come up with-by your- _abilities."_

Miliband stares at him. _"Romantically destroyed?"_

David glares. "I was thinking on my feet."

"What were you thinking of, th-Celine Dion's lesser-known single-"

"Oh, shut up." David takes a step closer. Miliband shrugs. "Your words, Cameron." He gives him the same irritating smile that he'd always give at PMQs, right when he'd leapt on the one _tiny_ infraction David might have committed that week. (David has fond memories of Miliband once soliloquizing for hours over a document David had sent him in which he had managed the grave grammatical sin of omitting one comma. David had had George's company on that occasion, which had come in handy when George had been forced to fake a sudden cramp as he lunged for David's arm, just in time to prevent him throwing the bunch of papers over Miliband's head.)

Perhaps it's the smile that makes David do it. Or perhaps it's the fact that this has just become a matter of principle (that's what David's telling himself and no one can make him think any differently.) Either way, that's when he tilts his head forward before he can stop himself and before he can think or breathe or anything remotely in the bounds of sanity, he's pushing his mouth onto Miliband's.

It's clumsy. That's David's first thought as he feels Miliband's mouth open automatically, his surprised gasp being cut off by David's own mouth. Clumsy and for a fraction of a breath, he's about to pull back, smirking-

Then Miliband's mouth moves and all plans to pull back are forgotten. In fact, most things are forgotten. Because-because-Miliband's fingers are caressing David's neck in exactly the right places and his lips are disconcertingly soft and warm and they're coaxing David's mouth open-and-a-and-there's a rollercoaster. There's something almost thunderous about David's heartbeat and it feels like a rollercoaster-his mind gabbles something about _what?!_ and _cliched_ , but he's stopped thinking anyway. Miliband's tongue strokes his bottom lip then and David's mouth just opens. He hears the sound in his throat before he can stop it, and then Miliband's tongue is in his mouth and he's not even thinking about stopping it.

Miliband's tongue is exploring his mouth, while his hands have moved to cup David's face gently so that he can focus all his-David's brain can't find the words and somehow Miliband's got him gasping and there's sounds coming out of his mouth and David's too far gone to pretend they're not whimpers. His hand scrabbles behind him for the door handle and he holds onto it, desperate for purchase as Miliband tilts his head, deepening the kiss and then very gently sucks on David's bottom lip.

That's about when David's legs give out and he just falls back against the door, his trousers suddenly far, far too tight and Miliband just there, nibbling and sucking and then-Miliband's teeth are there and he gives David's lip a very gentle, almost tickling, bite and David's thoughts are gone then. They've scattered, run off, taken a car while they're at it. All there is, is Miliband's mouth and his tongue and _oh_ and _oh God, oh God, oh God, Miliband, oh God-_

Miliband's tongue is gentle against his own and his lips are soft as they move with David's one more time, a soft sigh coming out of David's mouth as Miliband pulls back. David belatedly realises he has his eyes closed and somehow manages to open them.

Miliband is standing there, one hand still on David's jaw, with the beginnings of the most irritating smile he possesses just starting to appear, and it should not make David bite his lip and want and want-

"Satisfactory, Cameron?" Miliband says quietly and his thumb rubs against David's jaw gently, almost soothingly.

David opens his mouth. He stares at Miliband for a second. All that comes out is "U-a-huh."

Miliband smirks. David glares at him. There-there is no _way_ -"You-I-ah-you-y-"

Miliband just watches him, and David glares harder. "You-I am not-that was-wasn't-""

Miliband takes another step forward, his mouth hovering an inch from David's and David's eyes flutter closed before he can stop them, his mouth already parting a little, waiting-

He hears Miliband's soft laugh before he can stop himself and his eyes snap open. Miliband's got an eyebrow arched and he's wearing that-that stupid, irritating smile-that stupid, irritating smile he wears _when he knows he's right._

"You-you _planned_ -I mean-you-you-" David's train of thought's left the platform early. (If it ever even made it to the platform.)

Miliband shakes his head. "I didn't, Cameron." His hand's still at David's jaw and his thumb moves in a slow, teasing circle. "Honestly."

David hears the whimper crawl out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Miliband's smirk deepens and David's hands want to crawl into his hair and drag him closer.

"I've got somewhere to be." Miliband steps round David calmly, straightening his tie a little, as if nothing has happened. "Thanks for the signatures."

"W-w-what-" David steps into him at the last moment, his hand scrabbling for Miliband's. "You're-you c-can't-just-"

He stops dead as he realises what has just come out of his mouth. (This can't be happening. It simply cannot be happening. A part of David wants to refuse to believe it's happening but Miliband's smirk has only been this irritating in David's nightmares before now, so it must be.)

"I can't be what, Cameron?" Miliband asks irritatingly. _(Irritating._ It should have been written on Miliband's forehead at birth.)

"Just-you-you-" David can't make words. He can't make words reach his mouth. This would be an incredibly convenient moment to have a speechwriter.

Miliband steps forward. "I what?" he says quietly and then almost absent-mindedly runs his thumb over David's mouth. David moans softly, plaintively. But his hands scrabble for Miliband's wrists and then he reaches out and gently does the same. Miliband's mouth parts-just for a moment but he feels it and his eyes snap open because that's enough for him to know he's not the only one affected by this.

"You'd-you don't wan-want to leave" he finally manages. It's not entirely coherent but he sees a flinch pass Miliband's face for the first time and realises with a spike of triumph that he's struck home.

"I-" Miliband opens his mouth and closes it again, and David takes the chance to step closer, his thumb now hovering at Miliband's mouth. His head's still spinning, but now a small sound comes from Miliband's throat as David's thumb strokes his bottom lip once softly. Miliband looks furious with himself, but his eyes roam to David's mouth almost unthinkingly.

David strokes his jaw then. "Maybe I don't want you to leave either" he says and this is as close as he'll come to saying what Miliband wants.

Either way, Miliband's eyes glimmer and it's gentler this time, Miliband's eyes watching David's all the while as their heads tilt towards one another. When David's breath hitches as Miliband's thumb tickles his ear lobe, Miliband's eyes gleam and David almost whimpers as their mouths collide again, softer this time, more gently.

Miliband keeps it soft, maddeningly soft, whispering across his mouth, and whenever David tries to deepen it, Miliband makes shushing sounds into his mouth, letting his fingers dance over David's scalp, grazing his neck. It's soothing and gentle and it's sending David out of his mind. Desperately, he scrabbles at Miliband's hair, but Miliband shushes him again and just touches David's lips with his tongue. David hears a frantic high-pitched sound come out of his own throat and Miliband laughs softly, his mouth almost touching David's, and David groans, feeling dizzy with how badly he wants something, anything more.

"Satisfactory, Cameron?" Miliband whispers and David's eyes fly open to see Miliband's dark gaze an inch away. There's amusement there, but there's something else, something hot and burning and David feels a spark of triumph. No matter how much Miliband denies it, David isn't the only one enjoying this. Not just what they're doing-the undercurrent of competition, a contentious harmony between them, and so he deliberately lets his own mouth almost graze Miliband's again, teasing him at the last minute by pulling back.

A small sound of frustration rises in the back of Miliband's throat, and David feels the grin creep to his own mouth, a grin which vanishes when Miliband's eyes narrow and he slides his thumb under David's collar, making David gasp, which tails off into a whine when Miliband hits the right spot. Miliband smirks and whispers "Satisfactory?" again and then whispers his mouth against David's at the same time as he slides his thumb back over David's collar bone and David lets the words crumble out of his mouth. "Yes-Christ, Miliband-more than bloody satis-oh-oh God-"

He waits for the triumphant smirk that he should be dreading a lot more than he is. But he feels a small shudder go through Miliband's body and his eyes open to see Miliband staring at him, dark eyes wide, his mouth parting against David's own in a shocked , almost _incredulous_ gasp. David stares at him for a breath and then they're kissing again, Miliband's mouth suddenly clumsier, more uncertain but his hands grabbing at David's shoulders now, fumbling for his collar.

When they break apart, David can feel Miliband trembling a little and he opens his eyes, meets his gaze, his thumb pressed against Miliband's jaw. Miliband's staring at him, eyes huge and dark and shocked and instead of wanting to punch the air (he _knew_ Miliband couldn't be as confident as he was pretending to be, he _knew it_ ), David finds himself cupping Miliband's cheek gently, stepping closer so their noses brush. "What about me?" he asks quietly and Miliband's breath catches in his throat. "You-I-"

David thinks he isn't going to answer but then Miliband swallows and says, voice barely a whisper, "Better than I'd expect."

David just looks at him and then tilts their mouths back together, and this time when they pull apart, he whispers "I think we might have found a point we can agree on."

It's not until David's leaning back against the door with his lips swollen from burying themselves in Miliband's neck that Miliband, still doing something unspeakably good to David's earlobe, murmurs "You know, we didn't decide who's better at this."

"We-we didn't, did we?" David catches his breath and when he can speak again, manages "Maybe we'll have to rectify that. I think a rematch might be in order."

He feels Miliband smirk and tastes the words as Miliband whispers them into his mouth. "I might have to agree with you, Cameron." For a moment, they're kissing again and then Miliband murmurs "Especially when I'm going to prove you wrong."

David smirks, fingers tangling themselves in Miliband's hair. "Shut up, Miliband" he says into his mouth and then pulls it back to his own, the words caught between them in the middle of their smiles and their mouths and an argument that has to be rectified.

For a second, Miliband's fingers tangle with his own and David presses his forehead against Miliband's. That look of uncertainty is back in Miliband's eyes and David lets his fingers wrap around Miliband's hand, squeezes gently. Miliband's smile flickers back and for a moment, they stand there, breathing each other in, mouths close enough to murmur their names together.

David Cameron supposes that the whole concept of competing with the former Leader of the Opposition might sound rather undignified. But at this moment in time, with the need for a rematch as soon as possible dancing in the forefront of his mind, he honestly can't bring himself to care.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've got no idea how many times I said "David, shut up" to the screen while writing this. I've also got no idea how many times I questioned why on earth I was talking to myself while I wrote fanfic about the Prime Minister and the former Leader of the Opposition. This is the life of a lolitics fan, people.  
> Leave a comment if you liked it :)


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